//------------------------------//
// Shining's First Day as Prince 
// Story: Shining Armor's Checklist 
// by Wise Cracker 
//------------------------------//

Shining Armor didn't know much of his new home's history, but he knew a little. First and foremost, he knew this: in the darker times of Equestria, before the arrival of the pilgrims fleeing the Old Frozen Land and before the rule of King Sombra, the Crystal Empire had a little bakery, named the Royal Jelly Roll. 

As its name would imply, the Royal Jelly Roll was famous for making a particular type of roll filled with Crystal berry jelly, a delicacy and important export product, one that made its way into legend along with the ponies that made it. Legend has it, the Royal Jelly Roll, and the jelly roll it produced, was the pride of the Empire. Though open for normal custom, it was considered the royal supplier for all things pastry and pastry-adjacent. So grand was its reputation, in fact, that tales of its splendour made its way to modern Equestria. From Ponocchio to Ali Baabaa to Aerial, the Little Seapony With Conspicuous Wings, in all of the oldest versions of the tale, there would be a baker with a shiny coat, hailing from a mysterious land, and when asked whence they came, the answer was always the same. 

“I hail from a land of crystal and sugar, and learned my craft on Quartz Lane.”

Naturally, the day after his coronation, the first item on the newly minted Prince’s checklist was to find the place. 

After a breakfast of plain toast and jam he’d brought from home, he made his way out of the Palace and started searching. Trekking over the smooth shiny road and admiring the geometric shapes of the local architecture, he made it as far as the Crystal Heart when he realised his first problem.

This was the Crystal Empire. There was a Rose Quartz Lane, and also a Smokey Quartz, Green Quartz, every lane was a Quartz Lane of some variety. 

Luckily, his training at the Royal Guard Academy kicked in, and he reasoned his way out of this problem, right into another one. 

Every faerie tale about the bakery said it was on Quartz Lane. Without knowing which Quartz Lane it was, all he had to go on was the house number. Simply checking each Quartz Lane at the right number would inevitably lead him to the right spot. Unfortunately, there was no version of any of the faerie tales where the shiny bakers even mentioned the house number. 

Shining Armor was, again, stumped. But again, his training quickly allowed him to find an answer to that question.

Of course there was no mention of a house number: Crystal ponies didn’t believe in painting numbers on houses. It would muck up the aesthetic, no doubt. 

Now facing no less than three problems, Shining Armor stood before Crystal Heart and pondered his Royal Guard training for any further clue as to what to do. Standing around and doing nothing for five minutes, as per protocol, didn’t make much of a difference to his predicament, so he headed out in a random direction instead.

He went past Random Variety of Quartz Lane number one, took a left, found himself at the library, took a right, went straight ahead, then followed that street for as long as it ran, figuring that the bakery would at least be close to the palace. 

He found himself back at the Crystal Heart. He’d gotten turned around somehow.

“Okay, that’s weird.”

Scratching his head, he decided to change tactics. The chimneys, that would be a good way to tell. Bakeries were open early, he knew, and the Empire had its own magic-powered microclimate, so the only chimneys smoking would have to be the ones with baking going on. 

He took a step in another random direction and looked up. 

Nothing but smoke plumes on every single residence. 

He grunted. “I guess Sombra must have brought the cold with him.”

He decided to ask a passerby. 

“Excuse me, do you know why everyone’s got their chimneys going?”

“Why, it’s Hearth’s Warming Eve, sir,” replied the orange mare, a Crystal Unicorn who, at first glance of her baskets, looked like a flower-growing pony. 

“But it’s July. Hearth’s Warming is in winter.”

“Well, you know, better late than never, right?”

Shining felt a pang of migraine surge through his skull. “Aren’t you guys… older than the holiday anyway?”

“Well, yes, but we’re trying to be progressive, Your Crystal Princeness, sir.”

“Never mind. I’m trying to find the bakery. The one that makes the cakes for the royal family?”

“Oh, the Royal Jelly Roll? Of course. It’s right that way,” the mare, pointed down the way he’d gone first. He wasn’t far off, at least. “Just follow the street for about five minutes, you can’t miss it.”

“Thank you.” With a nod, he walked on. He followed the street, kept his head on a swivel, he even sniffed the air a few times just in case.

He found himself walking back towards the Crystal Heart again.

“Did I get turned around?”

He retraced his steps, now stomping audibly. He followed the street, passing by house after house, but no bakery. Crystal Empire architecture was weird with its sharpness and smooth surfaces, not to mention how uniform everything looked, but surely it couldn’t lead him in circles? Not with Sombra gone. 

He was starting to see how the Crystal Empire had avoided invasion for so long now: even if you got past the frozen tundra, the infrastructure of the place was confusing enough for any soldier to get lost in. All the houses looked the same, that flat smooth crystal that you couldn’t look at for too long if the light hit it just right. 

He arrived back at the Crystal Heart. 

“Are you lost, Your Highness?”

“No,” he replied in a reflex. Turning around, he found himself face to face with a pair of Crystal Guards: one Earth pony and one Pegasus. 

“You seem to be going in circles,” said the Pegasus.

“I am not going in circles: I’m patrolling. Military term.” Shining gritted his teeth. He hated having to lie, but he wasn’t about to lose his authority over the guards on his first day. 

“Oh, of course, sir.” The pair quickly dusted off their armors and stood to attention. 

Shining Armor suppressed a snort. The Royal Guards stood, and did nothing. 

They must have been the elite.

Eventually, the Earth pony piped up. “We apologise, this is all new to us, too. We will be accompanying you in this patrol, of course. It wouldn’t do to have the Crystal Prince do all the work on his own, especially on his first day.”

Yup, definitely the elite: they could make decisions that made sense. “Great. Thank you.” Shining sighed. Then he had an idea. Putting on his best impression of a royal, he asked “Our first order of business is to secure the food supplies. Do either of you know where the royal supplier of baked goods is?”

“The Royal Jelly Roll? Why yes, sir, we do. Every Crystal Pony knows where that is,” the Earth pony replied. “It’s a place of legend.”

“Good. Then you won’t mind taking me there.”

“Of course, sir.” Right on cue, the two guards led Shining through the streets. 

“So, sir, you were lost, then? If you’re asking for directions, I mean?” asked the Earth pony.

“I am not asking for directions: I’m requesting an escort. Military term, soldier, military term!”

“Sir, yes sir!”

The two stopped in front of a house he’d passed by five times that morning. It looked like an ordinary Crystal Pony residence: solid shiny rock all over, with no numbers on it. What stuck out to him, though, and the reason he’d passed it by before, was the picket fence out in front. The fence was white, and wooden, but most obviously: it was a closed fence. There was no gate on it, no door, no sign. If anything, this looked like the back of the building. 

“This is the legendary Crystal Empire bakery?”

“Indeed, sir,” replied the Pegasus. 

“There’s no sign on it.”

“Most establishments don’t, sir. Helps keep the enemy confused.”

“You’re in the middle of the tundra, there aren’t any enemies who’d be fooled by that.”

“That’s what you’d say if you were an enemy, isn’t it?”

Shining Armor sighed. Clearly, the selection for guard duty in the Crystal Empire followed much of the same criteria as it did in Canterlot: stallions were not selected for initial intelligence, per se, but by how well they were likely to recover from head trauma, and how much intelligence would be lost in the process.

Shining came from a long and glorious line of thick-skulled ponies, so he ended up being smarter than most.

At least, that’s what his mother always said. 

Unabashed, he continued. “And why is there a fence around it?”

The two exchanged a confused glance. “To keep ponies out, of course,” said the Pegasus. 

“How exactly are ponies meant to get past the fence if it doesn’t have a door?”

“You hop over it, sir.”

Shining took a look at the fence. Clearly, he was missing something here. True, the fence was low enough to hop over, but that only raised further questions, and brought on another headache.

“If the fence is low enough to hop over, why keep a fence at all?”

“Oh, I think I understand, sir,” said the Earth pony. “Canterlot doesn’t have public ordinance laws like ours. In the Crystal Empire, bakeries are required by law to have a closed fence in front.”

This was new to the Prince, and made little to no sense. He could almost hear his sister gritting her teeth already when he would try to explain this to her. “And the reason for that is?”

“The same reason drinking and brewing establishments have a closed fence, sir. You have to understand, all of this was built in a different age. The fence law serves two purposes: first, it keeps proprietary rules intact. Every brewery and every bakery has their own formulation, their own recipes, you see.”

It finally dawned on him. “And their own yeasts.”

“Exactly. The fencing is a mark of distinction, as well as a warning not to try and steal any yeast.”

“And the second reason?”

“To keep out drunk ponies. You need to be sober to hop a fence, and many a stallion has gotten stuck on these things after a bender. Crystal moonshine is infamous, after all. Nobody ever drinks in the day: with all the light hitting these crystals, the headache becomes sheer torture. It’s harder to hop a fence in the dark.”

“Plus, you’d be surprised how many drunks get the idea to steal baker’s yeast to try and brew their own Crystal Berry wine.”

An annoyed migraine flared up around Shining’s head. “Of course. That makes perfect sense. Is there a bell we can ring?”

Evidently, he didn’t need to, as the owner of the place came out to greet him. He could tell it was the owner, because she had a cutie mark shaped like the very treat he was there to order.

“Prince Armor! You honour us with your presence. Please, hop on over, we’ve been expecting you. My name is Coal Triscuit, are you here for the jelly rolls?”

Shining smiled. “Yes, I am. I’m Prince Shining Armor.” 

With a nod, the mare gestured him to hop the fence and come in. 

Item one: check. 

Let’s hope everything else is this easy. 





Item two on Shining Armor’s checklist was an inspection of the dungeons. Taking his new patrolling buddies along, he found his way down below the palace, where he was surprised to find that the Crystal Empire still had ponies in prison.

“Oh yes, sir. They were locked up before Sombra took over and, well, no one really bothered to release them,” said Emerald Wing, the Pegasus. A rather odd name, since the stallion’s wings weren’t green in any way. Nor was any part of Emerald’s anatomy, as far as Shining could tell. Emerald was as white as Shining was, and if not for the more slender legs and the orange hair, he might have passed for a long-lost ancestor of Shining’s father.  

The dungeons stretched on for ages. “And where are these current inmates?”

“Oh, they’re in the art wing,” said Silver Spear, the Earth pony. Mister Spear, as he insisted he be called, was a stallion on stilts. Though lacking in the belly department, he stood higher than both Shining and Emerald, and he had the slow smooth gait of a soldier who suppressed his true speed. No doubt this was a fellow with a mean jab.  

Shining Armor nodded in appreciation. “You teach inmates how to be artists? That’s nice: get them back into society. I like that.”  

“Oh no, sir. The art wing is where we lock up artists.”

Shining’s headache started to pop up again. “You lock up artists? For… what crime?”

“Making illegal art, of course,” Emerald replied.  

He groaned. “Take me to them, please.”

As dutiful as any Royal Guard in Canterlot, they took him to an area of the prison where there were three ponies in jail, all Unicorns.

None of them looked like hardened criminals at first glance.  

“What are you in for?” Shining asked the first.  

“I drew a picture of a Saddle Arabian’s cart,” came the reply.  

Shining furrowed his brow. “And why is that illegal?”

“I can’t say.”

“Why not?”

The stallion gestured to the guards outside. “Because it’s illegal to point out why it’s illegal and I don’t want to get tortured again.”

Shining Armor recoiled. “You torture ponies for making art?” he asked the guards.

“Illegal art? Of course. That one right there is ready for his next round of torture.” Silver Spear gestured to the second cell. “Got the dripper ready and waiting.”

Shining shuddered at the mention of a ‘dripper.’ “And what did you make?” he asked the second inmate.  

“I made a children’s book,” said the Unicorn.  

“And you’re going to get tortured over that?”

“He violated our Safe Speech Laws,” Emerald Wing explained. “He’ll be put to death as a war criminal, after we’re done torturing him in public.”

That headache stopped pounding and started drilling. “How is making a children’s book a war crime?”

“It contains illegal content. If he keeps going, it will weaken the Crystal Heart. That makes us weaker in war. Ergo, war crime,” the Pegasus explained. The Earth pony nodded emphatically.  

“But you torture him before that? After declaring him a war criminal over nothing? That’s against the Geneighva Convention!”  

“What’s Geneighva?” asked Silver Spear.

“What’s a convention?” asked Emerald Wing.  

Shining Armor rubbed his nose. “Okay, show me what these guys made, I’ll see who gets a royal pardon. And after that I’m having a talk with Cadance about exactly what does and what doesn’t hurt the Crystal Heart.”

“Sound fair,” Silver Spear said. “Should we cancel the public water torture this afternoon, then?”

“You… you wha… yes, delay all the punishments until we figure out what a modern solution ought to be! Okay, now what’s the third one in for?”

The last one shrugged. “I drew some saucy pictures that were declared obscene.”

Shining rolled his eyes. “Come on, that’s hardly a crime. We need to be more progressive.”

“Of the Crystal Empire ewes,” the prisoner continued.  

“Okay, too progressive, too progressive! Maybe you’ve kinda got a point with this one. But still, a death sentence? What kind of legal system do you have here?”





As it turned out, the Crystal Empire legal system was item three on Shining Armor’s checklist, as his two o’ clock appointment involved ponies coming before him as adjucator on the Empire’s highest court of appeal. This is where the important cases happened, where every other legal avenue had been exhausted.

“And I say he needs to keep his rabbits indoors!” shouted one Earth pony. “They’ve been eating my carrots for centuries!”

“It’s only been a week!” came the reply. 

“Not by the Captain’s reckoning, and that’s the only reckoning that matters!”

Shining sighed. As far as he understood it, this court would see any case that couldn’t be resolved through the normal channels. 

And since Sombra had eliminated the normal channels, that meant pretty much every case that was still on hold would come before him.

All at the same time, because of tradition, apparently.

He’d already managed to work out a zoning dispute between a shepherd and a cello player, a matter of offensive language that concerned a jester and a candle maker (though he still wasn’t sure which pony was accusing which of what, or where the cucumbers got involved), but this last pair had gone on and on. 

Finally, Shining Armor let out a groan loud enough to silence the two. 

And right on cue, his darling wife walked in on the proceedings. 

He looked at her for a moment, thought, then nodded. “Okay, so let me get this straight: your neighbour’s rabbits keep eating your carrots, correct?”

“Correct,” said the pony on the right.

“And you don’t want to build any fencing because…” Shining turned to the other pony.

“Why, I have a hutch with a fence around it already. That should suffice. He should be the one fencing around his carrots.”

Shining nodded. “I’m sorry, but I have to agree with the plaintiff here. You need to keep your rabbits contained, they’re your responsibility.”

“But-”

“Rabbits aren’t supposed to eat carrots: too much sugar,” the Prince argued. “You letting them out the way you are is going to give them health problems, and put them in danger if they wander off too far.”

The rest of the court murmured, mostly in agreement, partly from sheer awe at their judge’s reasoning skills. Cadence smiled in approval.

“Alright, then, if that is all, court is adjourned?”

Emerald Wing, who had taken Shining Armor’s left flank, nodded. “Court is adjourned for the day!” With a double stomp on the ground with a sounding stick, the signal to leave the courtroom was given.

Shining hopped off his seat and went to greet his wife. He rubbed his head, another pang of migraine flared up.

“Are you okay?” Cadence asked.

“I’m fine, just a headache,” he replied once the room was empty. “How was your day?”

“It went fine. We’re going to have to start interviewing ponies for our staff, though. Those two guards you had with you looked pretty confident.”

“Yeah, I think I can keep those two close by. Well, for now, while we’re getting settled in.”

Cadence nodded again and nuzzled his neck. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

He sighed. “Is this gonna be our life now? Is every day going to be like this?”

“Of course not. We’re only getting started. It’ll all calm down soon.”

Shining rubbed his head. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.”





The next day, Shining Armor was enjoying his first ever roll from the Royal Jelly Roll. In all, he could see where the bakers got their reputation. 

“Prince Shining Armor? There’s someone here to see you.” Silver Spear started.

Before either of the royals could even reply, a Crystal Pegasus came flying in, carrying scrolls in her arms. 

“Your Highnesses! I just got word from Cloudsdale, and I have the best idea ever! We should build a sports stadium! We could host the Equestria Games!”

Day two in his new royal role, and he was getting a major infrastructure project for a city that hadn’t seen a contractor for a thousand years, where the streets were practically made of glass, to play sports that, presumably, hadn’t been invented last time the Empire had been sighted. 

Shining Armor almost choked on royal jelly, swallowed, then glared at his wife.

“Calm down soon, huh?”

The End.